When the Stage Lights Go Down
by xox Moony xox
Summary: At 21, Maxxie has finally left Bristol behind to pursue a budding career as a dancer in the West End when an unexpected face from the past shows up and threatens to stir things up again.
1. All the World's a Stage

**Rating: **PG-13 for language.

**Pairing: **Tony/Maxxie history implied.

**Prompt: **003. Ends.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Skins if you didn't know already.

**Summary: **At 21, Maxxie has finally left Bristol behind to pursue a budding career as a dancer in the West End when an unexpected face from the past shows up and threatens to stir things up again.

**All the World's a Stage**

Four weeks passed by before any of the old gang made the effort to come and see Maxxie in his stage debut. He was dancing as part of an ensemble piece in a new West End show. It ran March to June, ten weeks, and by the end of the second week he quickly lost hope of anyone showing up at all.

Chris though had come through and plonked himself down in the front row on the 30th night, whooping and cheering and making crude comments about the female dancers. Not unexpected of course. A belt would probably have covered more than the skirts they were wearing. All spandex, sequins and slutty moves, the heterosexual men of the world couldn't resist. That was what they were there for. The dancers were supposed to tease. Back to back, hips writhing provocatively, hands untameable.

The whole display always made Maxxie laugh and the girls enjoyed every second of it. Being someone else, even for a moment, it was an escape.

In the dressing room an entirely different story could be told. Emma and her 18-month-old son, her slick, black hair pulled back into a tight bun, dressed in pencil skirts and white shirts buttoned all the way to the top. His partner in crime and the nicest person you could ever ask to meet. She would sit on his dressing table before each show, legs swinging back and forth, her tortoiseshell framed glasses shoved on top of her head as she did his makeup for him.

Night after night he would sit there, watching his reflection in the mirror as she painted sweeping blue and white lines across his face, her touch so gentle. They would talk about her family, her upcoming wedding and moving house in the spring. She'd laugh and joke with him and tease him about his abysmal taste in men. 'Always picking the unattainable, aren't you, Max?'she would say. 'How many times do I need to tell you? That guy from Harry Potter does _not_ want your phone number.'

During curtain calls she sat in his lap, feet up on the dressing table, reading the latest _Mills and Boon_ novel. She would giggle, sigh and tear up at regular intervals and you could always tell when she stumbled across a sex scene, she'd go unusually quiet and her cheeks would flush slightly with pink.

The second time someone came to see him, one of the stage hands peered around the dressing room door during the interval and announced that he had a visitor. Emma perked up immediately, sitting up straight, her book hitting the dressing table with a loud thwack.

His visitor was the very last person he expected to see. Bold as brass, as tall as ever and holding a large bouquet of bright orange tiger lilies; Tony Stonem, the bane of his existence.

Emma didn't help matters when she slid out of his lap, reassuringly stroked his arm and leant down to whisper into his ear, 'I approve.' She flashed a smile in Tony's direction, pulled on the hem of her costume in an attempt to make herself decent and then headed off to talk to a few of the other girls.

He stared at Tony for a long moment, not bothering to move or even appear welcoming toward him.

'Well I was right with the flowers I see; you look like a right pansy,' said Tony, nodding over in his direction and cracking a smile.

Maxxie narrowed his eyes, muttering, 'You're a wanker.'

'You'd hate me if I were anything else.'

He hated that it were true.

With a sigh, he got up from his chair, perched on the edge of the dressing table instead and poured himself a glass of water from the jug beside him. 'What are you doing here, Tony?' he asked.

Tony's reply was quick and he laughed, laying the flowers down on the table by the door. 'Showing support, what the _fuck_ does it look like I'm doing?!' he exclaimed.

Maxxie's eyebrows shot up and he downed the water in his hand, wishing for a moment it were vodka. They hadn't seen each other for almost two years. He'd left for London and that was supposed to have been it. Yet, here they were, straight back into the old routine and bickering like an old married couple as per usual. There had to be something he could say that didn't sound completely pathetic.

'I don't know why you're complaining, it's not as though anyone else has bothered to make the effort to come and see you,' tried Tony a moment later.

'Chris did.'

The argument had been quick and almost childlike in its delivery and he regretted it immediately because Tony's eyes lit up.

'Chris would.' He shrugged casually. 'Chris does whatever the fuck you tell him to do because he hasn't got anything else. He's hardly the piesta resistance in theatre goers, is he? Leering from the front row like some kind of rabid dog, eyes on stalks.'

'Think you're talking about someone else...'

And the conversation ended there.

Maxxie wanted to defend Chris, but found himself incapable, instead clenching his fist so tightly that his short nails cut into his palm.

An awkward pause followed and then Tony walked over and sat down in the chair he and Emma had vacated earlier. He placed his hands on his knees and looked up, holding Maxxie's gaze. 'I wanted to make up,' he explained in a soft voice that clearly belonged to someone else.

'You'll be lucky,' said Maxxie, standing his ground.

Tony shook his head, smirking as he replied, 'Not like that you tosser. Besides, I don't think Sophie would approve.'

Sophie, the new girlfriend, and the first time she had been mentioned by anyone properly. Up until now she'd purely been a few snippets of information, not a real human being. 'Tony's new girlfriend works in advertising,' Jal had told him in a phone call several weeks back (she had told him she couldn't come and see the show, too). 'She decorates cakes and comes from Croydon. She's older of course.' Maxxie had doubted that Sophie was anything special and wondered why Jal even wasted her time in telling him.

'One woman man now, Tone?' he asked dryly, knowing very well how jealous he sounded. Pouring himself another glass of water, he sat still and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his own stupidity.

'Thought I'd try something new,' Tony laughed. He hadn't noticed. 'She's here tonight; you can meet her if you want. We could all go for a drink later, catch up maybe.'

'Think I'll pass.'

Silence again, uncomfortable and uncalled for really. It was eventually broken by the five minute call that came over the tannoy and then the excited chatter of his fellow dancers as they began to collect things together and make their way to the door.

Getting up from where he was sat, Maxxie gave Tony a hard look and then said, 'Let's face it, you're only sat here now because she suggested it. We're never going to be friends again after what happened; you know that, I know that, so why even bother trying.'

For a moment Tony looked as though he might reply, but then snapped his mouth shut and simply shrugged his shoulders. He knew he couldn't argue.

Turning away, Maxxie grabbed what he needed from the dressing table, laced his shoes back up and checked his makeup in the mirror.

Having finished changing into her outfit for the second half, Emma had been hovering around by the door waiting for a lull in their conversation. She looked embarrassed though, and clearly felt that she'd walked in on something she shouldn't have.

'Max?' she asked softly, taking advantage of the quiet. 'Are you ready to go?'

He ignored Tony sat there and joined her in the doorway, jamming a trilby hat onto his head, which she then proceeded to reposition for him with a smile.

Risking a glance at his old friend, Maxxie frowned and then, before leaving the room, supplied, 'It's over, Tony.'

And if that really had been true, it would have been fantastic.


	2. Behind The Mask

**Prompt: **002. Middles.

**Behind the Mask**

Maxxie crawled from the bed of his London flat at 4am, padding down the hallway to the kitchen, and leaving the sleeping form of his boyfriend behind him curled up in the covers.

Rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand, he pulled open the cupboard where the coffee was kept and got up on his tiptoes to grab the jar of Nescafé from the top shelf. Rupert had decided six months ago to kit the kitchen out with state of the art cupboards from IKEA that towered several feet above him. And this was a great idea… if you were 6ft 3. Some days he really did wish he was taller.

Retrieving the jar, he sighed softly and then set about getting himself a much needed caffeine fix, leaning back against the counter as the kettle boiled. He let his eyes close and ran his fingers through his hair. Ever since Tony's visit two nights ago, his sleeping patterns had been completely off. Well, not off as such, more along the lines of he'd not been sleeping at all and was running on pure adrenaline.

Maxxie laid his hands on the counter behind him and pulled himself up to sit there, leaning over and pouring the boiling water into a white mug. Picking it up, he closed his hands around it and tipped his head back until it hit the cupboard with a dull thud. He couldn't wait until Sunday; at least he got a few blissful hours off from the theatre then and could try sleeping throughout the day.

Tony always managed to cause this kind of reaction when he turned up unannounced. They had more history than people knew. In the end it hadn't simply been about sex either, feelings had begun to show and that had been the moment Tony cut and run, unable to face up to the prospect of actually caring for him.

Naturally, Maxxie despised him for it, called him a coward and every other name he could think of at the time. When they parted ways a year later, they still weren't speaking. Tony had tried again and again to patch up their pathetic excuse for a friendship but, for once, he hadn't given in.

Now here he was again, charming smile and boyish good looks and obviously wanting _something_. Tony didn't show up without a hidden agenda. The question was, what was it this time?

Maxxie scowled down at his coffee cup and kicked out at the barstool beside him in frustration. Fucking Tony Stonem and his fucking mind games, well he could fuck right off.

'Coffee won't help, you know, has the opposite effect... like I told you last night.'

There was no need to look up; he knew Rupert would be stood in the doorframe, bed hair, blurry eyes and all. Maxxie couldn't leave the bedroom for more than twenty minutes without him knowing about it. He was very big on cuddling.

'Come back to bed and at least try to sleep?' was the soft-spoken question that came next.

'No,' answered Maxxie.

And that would be the end of the conversation for the third night running.

Lolling his head over to the left, Maxxie listened to Rupert walk back down the hall, his footfalls light against the carpet. If he went back to bed they'd only end up having sex anyway and that wouldn't help him in the slightest. He found it best not to shag his boyfriend while thinking about Tony, it always caused unwanted melodramatics. Sure, he loved him like there were no tomorrow, but the one with the blue eyes could screw things up for him without even trying.

He sniffed and then took a drink of his coffee, the bitter taste making him gag. Perhaps Tony had no ulterior motive, maybe he really did just want to make amends. It was highly unlikely of course. There was more chance of Cliff Richard having another number one single.

Finishing the contents of his mug, Maxxie slid down from the counter and popped it in the dishwasher before making his way to the spare room to grab the duvet off the bed. It looked like he'd be spending another night curled up in front of the TV with nothing but Rupert's DVD collection for company. He was going in alphabetical order. American Beauty was next. Fucking glorious!

Flopping down on the couch after hitting play, he exhaled loudly, hiding himself away in the covers and stared at the screen.

One more night of this and he _would_ go insane.

-

Jogging down the steps leading from the dressing room, Maxxie said his goodbyes to the stagehands hanging around near the doors, paused briefly to pull a hat onto his head and zip up his jacket, and then stepped out onto the bustling London street. The hat and jacket were a necessity unfortunately, they had been hit by a cold snap last week and as yet, there were no signs it was going to warm up anytime soon. He hated it; they had enough of this weather in winter, let alone spring as well.

Starting down the theatre lined street and towards the tube station, he pulled his iPod from his pocket and idly scrolled through the menus for something decent to listen to. Never having liked travelling alone late at night at least his music gave him some kind of company.

Thankfully he didn't have far to go tonight, Emma had made dinner reservations at a restaurant in Covent Garden and he had an evening of eating and drinking with his favourite people to look forward to. More often than not they would have walked there together, but she had left the theatre half an hour earlier than usual, racing home to change, drop the baby off at her mother's and pick up her fiancé, Rob.

Maxxie swept through the tube station and sat down in a middle carriage of the train, his attention firmly focused on the window opposite him. Sandwiched between a couple jabbering away in fluent Japanese he bit his tongue and blocked them out, letting the old Snow Patrol track wash over him. He'd be at his destination soon enough.

Ten minutes later and he was sprinting up the escalators, practically hopping the barriers in a bid for freedom. Rupert met him outside, leaning casually against the wall, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He greeted him with the usual bright smile and soft kiss.

'Good night?' asked Maxxie, beginning to walk with him.

'Old lady came onto me, asked me when I got off and if I wanted to join her at the Savoy when I did.'

'Why are you here with me then?' he couldn't help the light-hearted jibe.

Rupert worked in Covent Garden at one of the more family friendly restaurants. He wore a black fitted shirt, highly polished brogues, flirted with all the women and received at least ten phone numbers a week. To Maxxie's knowledge, he'd only ever called one of them; a ninety-year-old by the name of Agnes who came in every Tuesday night for a chat. They talked on the phone every Sunday afternoon now, too.

A well known perk of the job, flatter the old ladies and they'd be sure to give you a nice fat tip at the end of the night. It didn't matter to them that he was as gay as a goose so long as they received the attention and had a pleasant evening. The ladies had a good time, he earned some extra cash and everybody went home happy.

The restaurant they were having dinner at was tucked away in one of the quieter areas and was also home to the best cocktails in the city. Emma usually spent Saturday nights getting giggly on their strawberry daiquiris before taking to the dance floor at the Ku Bar. She relied on Maxxie to get her in.

Although, considering her onstage routine these days, the bouncers generally didn't take too much convincing anymore.

Taking a seat at their usual table, Maxxie picked up a menu (even though he always ordered the same thing) and leant into Rupert slightly, talking about the show in hushed tones and laying slow, languid kisses to his neck.

Emma and Rob turned up ten minutes later and the table erupted into playful banter revolving around Rob's car trouble that afternoon. In fact, trouble was being light; the engine had dropped out of it.

They were midway through their second course when Emma's eyes suddenly widened and she pointed across the table to Maxxie with her fork. She swallowed down her mouthful of salad, took a sip of water and then said, 'I almost forgot to tell you, Max. That guy from the other night was hanging around looking for you again.'

Maxxie really wished he hadn't just taken a sip of his wine because most of it ended up splattered across the tablecloth when he spat it out again. He grabbed for a napkin, dabbing desperately at the blood red stain, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Certain he couldn't do anymore to help the situation; he ignored Rupert's raised eyebrows and then asked, 'Tony was looking for me?'

'Don't worry, I told him you'd already left,' she answered, cutting into her jacket potato enthusiastically and continuing to eat as though nothing untoward had happened. 'He seemed really charming actually, really polite…' She said all of this with a dazzling smile.

Frowning, rather putout, Maxxie poured himself a fresh glass of wine. 'But that's what he does, Em,' he attempted to inform her.

She met him with a hard stare and then shook her head in disbelief, beginning to howl with laughter. 'What? He's nice to people? Wow, there's a crime against humanity, call the police, please!' she exclaimed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

'Forgive me for not having a clue what you're talking about here, but who the hell's Tony?' interrupted Rupert a moment later, placing his knife and fork down and looking between them both.

Maxxie had almost forgotten he was sat there.

'One of Maxxie's old friends from Bristol,' Emma supplied through giggles.

Downing his wine, the alcohol rendering him speechless for a second, he toyed with the stem of his glass and then muttered, 'He is _not_ my friend.'

'Fine then, some _guy_ Maxxie knows from Bristol.'

She stuck her tongue out at him.

'Doesn't exactly narrow it down, does it?' teased Rob, winking.

'And if you're quite done teasing my boyfriend,' said Rupert, who both looked and sounded amused, but still managed to keep his tone authoritative. 'Get fucking eating, the chefs don't cook all this for you lot to waste it.'

No one said anymore, the subject was dropped and conversation turned to Emma and Rob's wedding plans by the time dessert rolled around. She exclaimed loudly about cakes, gestured emphatically over the decorations, bounced up and down in her seat when she mentioned flowers and then told anyone who looked in her direction to politely shove off.

At 1am Rob had to forcibly remove her from the chair to take her home. She protested of course, called him a party pooper and a number of other names that weren't so good-humoured. He laughed it off, slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, flashing half the restaurant her polka dot underwear in the process, and then said, 'We'll be going now, enjoy the rest of your weekend, guys.'

Maxxie and Rupert decided to hang around for another drink or two before finally calling it a night and stumbling through the front door at 3am.

For the past twenty minutes Rupert had been asking questions about Tony again, teasing and taunting and ruffling Maxxie's blonde hair while they travelled back on a night bus. He apparently found great pleasure in watching Maxxie squirm and went so far as to tell him so.

'Leave it alone now, Rupe.'

Enough was enough.

Rupert jumped up onto the kitchen counter and grinned as he propped his feet up on the stool in front of him, hazel eyes winking mischievously. 'Just want to know why this guy's got your panties in such a bunch. Go on, hit me with it, I can take it,' he declared, overdramatizing each and every word. 'He's an old boyfriend, right?' He continued to grin, which only aggravated Maxxie that little bit more.

Blanching, he offered a feeble, 'Yeah.'

Would that be considered a lie? He didn't know. They'd never really dated; they'd just had sex a lot. An awful lot in fact. You couldn't exactly call that a feasible relationship.

'Is he hotter than me?'

Jesus, it was like _Days of Our Lives_.

Maxxie got himself a bowl of cereal and a spoon, muttered, 'Shut up,' and then retreated to the living room to eat his cornflakes alone. The night wasn't supposed to have ended up this way. Any minute now Rupert would wander in and join him, playfully accusing him of sulking. He wouldn't be far wrong either.

But he didn't, which was highly unusual.

Ten minutes later, Maxxie returned his bowl to the kitchen to find his boyfriend sat on the counter still and nursing a large mug of black coffee between his hands. He appeared lost in thought and didn't look up.

'Are you coming to bed?' he asked the question apprehensively, resting an elbow against the doorframe as he waited on a reply.

The silence that followed made him feel sick.

And then…

'No… I think not...'

Rupert glanced his way at last, his usually pale complexion flushed slightly with pink. He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing at his forehead with one of his hands and messing his dark hair up as he did so. Maxxie resisted the urge to go over and smooth it down for him again.

'Maybe in a bit, Max,' he added, forcing a small smile onto his face. 'You go, you need your sleep.'

Maxxie knew better than to argue and did as he said, heading to the bedroom suddenly feeling strangely hallow inside.

-

It wasn't the first time Maxxie and Rupert hadn't seen eye to eye about something and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The few days that followed were awkward to say the least, but they got on with it as they always did and by Wednesday night things were back to normal again.

Unfortunately for Maxxie, Wednesday night was also the night he sprained his ankle during the first half of the show and ended up getting sent home early. He didn't have the words to express how much this ruined his day. Rupert wasn't even at home to look after him; he had a shift at the restaurant until 1am and he'd be stuck there alone feeling sorry for himself.

In the end, Emma offered to go home with him, not having much else to do seeing as she was now partner-less.

For fifteen of the twenty minutes it took to get them home they bickered. Their choreographer, Fox, made it clear that the accident occurred because Maxxie wasn't concentrating on the routine and then threatened to let him go if he didn't sort his head out sharpish. Emma went spare and the argument had followed.

'I'm going to kill you,' she said finally, dropping her bag down onto the coffee table and glaring at him.

Maxxie collapsed onto the couch and leant down, beginning to rub at his sore ankle. He didn't bother to grace her with a reply, she'd only complain anyway no matter what he said.

Sure enough, a second later, she threw her hands up in frustration before storming off into the kitchen to make tea.

By the time she returned (with two mugs and a plate of chocolate digestives firmly in her grip) he had dry swallowed a couple of co-codamol and was happily on his way to drug induced slumber, head buried in a mountain of squishy cushions and eyes tight shut.

'Sit up, I'll get the rest of your makeup off for you,' said Emma, taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table and squirting something she'd just retrieved from her makeup bag onto some cotton wool. 'Come on, this isn't an excuse to doss around.'

He groaned and sat up obediently, keeping his eyes closed as she began to dab the cold lotion onto his face.

A minute passed before she spoke and when she did, she sounded unusually concerned. 'What's going on, Max?' she asked softly. 'We're worried about you.'

'I'm fine.'

_You're a fucking liar, you're anything but fine!_

Emma saw right through him. 'Yeah, all right,' she laughed. 'Now try that again and this time you might want to try telling me the truth instead. It's to do with him, isn't it? Tony?'

He winced at the mention of Tony's name. 'You can't tell-'

'Rupert?' she cut in. 'Don't worry, I won't.'

Another minute or so of silence followed before she settled down on the couch beside him, handed over his tea and a digestive, and then laid her head on his shoulder in wait. 'So, start talking,' she prompted, clearing her throat softly. 'I'm listening.'

'Tony's…' Maxxie sighed and looked away from her. He didn't know where to even begin. 'I tried _so_ fucking hard to get over him, you know. I thought I _was_ over him. But now… fuck I don't know. He hurt me and I told myself I wasn't going to let him do it again. He'd had his fun and fucking with me again was out of the question.' He dropped his head down, staring into his mug. 'And now I can't stop fucking thinking about him and he's ruining everything as usual, turning my life to shit.'

'Max, look at me,' said Emma, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. He did as asked but felt idiotic. 'He can only do that if you let him and you _are_ letting him. You need to take a step back and figure out what's best for you and don't let him interfere.'

Sighing, he took a sip of his tea and let his eyes close a moment, allowing the warmth to consume him. 'What if I can't do that?'

'Nothing comes of falling for the bad boy, Max, you always end up hurt.' She shuffled in her seat beside him, curling her legs up beneath herself and leaning back against the cushions. 'Rupert loves you; he'd do anything for you. Don't let this jerk spoil it all.'

'I don't want him-' Maxxie cut himself off and looked away from her, cursing.

'Old love dies hard,' she whispered, her gentle touch finding his hand instead and then she laced their fingers together. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of. We all fall for the wrong person at some point in our lives.' She laughed then, apparently amused. 'Richard Draycott, a 12th year and the love of my fourteen-year-old life. Now he was an idiot.'

His gaze moved back to her face and he smiled. In all the time he'd known Emma she'd only ever been besotted with Rob, it was strange to think of her being in love with anyone else.

'He had a motorbike, looked old enough to get away with buying vodka from the offie and told me I was cute,' she explained. 'Course to a fourteen-year-old me, the one with the milk bottle specs and crazy hair, he was Gods gift.' She shrugged. 'We all do stupid things when we're teenagers, what can I say.'

Maxxie ran his fingers idly through his hair, thinking about what he needed to do as he finished off his tea. A part of him wanted to see Tony again. Maybe if they talked things through properly it would clear his mind and he'd be able to start getting over him at long last.

'You're right,' he said eventually and put his mug down.

Emma beamed. 'I know I am,' she replied.

Cocking an eyebrow in her direction, he laughed softly and then leant over her to pluck the cordless phone from its holder. 'I'm calling Tony,' he announced.

His companion's face fell and she hurriedly inquired, 'Do you really think that's such a good idea?'

Maxxie shrugged, not having a lot to say in reply and continued on with his task. Tony picked up on the third ring and he sounded tired. The conversation lasted a minute at most and ended up with him agreeing to come round and saying that he'd be there in half an hour. It turned out that Tony and Sophie were in London for several weeks visiting her parents and were staying in a hotel not far from the West End. That explained the frequent visits to the theatre then.

Fifteen minutes later Rob arrived to pick up Emma. As usual he brought Luke with him and Maxxie got several undisturbed minutes to play with the baby while Emma collected her things together. She refused to leave at first, announcing that she was worried Maxxie would do something stupid, but after he reassured her for the tenth time that he wouldn't and that he would behave himself, she reluctantly let Rob lead her out of the flat.

At 9:33pm, not that he was watching the clock or anything, the buzzer went for the second time that evening and he limped his way downstairs to let Tony inside. He opened the door and found his expected company leaning in the window of his girlfriend's car. Maxxie managed to get a fleeting look at her before she drove away. Curly blonde hair, wearing a pink halter top and looking every inch a real life Barbie doll. Not quite what he had expected.

Upon stepping inside, Tony made a casual comment about her, saying how she was brainier than she looked. Maxxie didn't doubt that, a dumb blonde wouldn't have made it too far in advertising purely on looks these days.

After grabbing a couple of bottles of Fosters from the fridge they sat down in the living room and silence quickly settled, Maxxie biting on his lip and drumming his fingers against his knee uneasily.

'Changed your mind then, did you?' asked Tony eventually, his words monotone.

Maxxie glanced at him and then shook his head. 'You're the one who keeps showing up at the theatre unannounced. Can't you take a hint?' he shot back.

When in doubt, bicker.

'I can take a hint. I'm not that fucking dense, Maxxie.' Tony swallowed down a mouthful of beer and then placed the bottle down on the coffee table, clearing his throat. 'For some fucked up reason, I wanted you to be one of the first to know that me and Soph are getting married.'

Shit, it really was turning out to be an interesting couple of weeks… and there was that hallow feeling back again.

Maxxie winced and hoped that Tony wouldn't notice.

'Dozy cow actually asked me,' he continued with amusement. 'Got down on one knee and everything, it was fucking hilarious!'

Frowning, Maxxie turned to face him, still clutching onto his beer bottle tightly. 'How can you sit there and do that?' he asked, perking an eyebrow. 'Agree to marry the poor girl and then drag her name through the mud like it doesn't matter?'

Tony nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder, smiled thoughtfully and answered, 'Because people let me.' He reached for his beer. 'And don't take the fucking moral high ground with me, Maxxie, you're worse than the whole lot of them put together. You let me do the exact same thing to you time and time again and you took it lying down every single time.' His eyebrows shot up and then he smirked, chucking. 'Literally and figurally speaking on several occasions I might add.'

'That's different,' his voice waved slightly as he said it.

'Is it?' Tony tilted his head curiously. 'Looks the same from where I'm standing.'

Maxxie stared at him defiantly.

'Wow, good come back, ten out of ten for effort.'

'Fuck you.'

'Not much better, mate, should have quit while you were ahead,' laughed Tony, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand.

And just like that, things were back to normal.

-

Hanging out of the doorway and looking up and down the street, Maxxie sighed as water dripped straight onto his head from the guttering above. He blinked and shook the droplets away. It had been raining for the past three hours and by the looks of things, it was set in for the night. He'd been convinced the weather couldn't get any worse, but apparently he'd been _very_ wrong.

Letting a breath go slowly, he ducked back inside the theatre, gaze moving over to the stage and the group of stagehands marching up and down with sound equipment tucked under their arms. They were all in their late teens, bone-idle and were sent from one of the local Universities to help out every now and then.

He tilted his head slightly, watching for a moment. The one with the eyeliner and the emo hair really was quite cute.

Maxxie smiled to himself and then folded his arms over his chest, leaning his head back against the wall as he waited for his taxi to show up. Perhaps the cute emo kid could be used for backup if he ever had a fall out with Rupert again. Throw several tequila slammers down his throat and insist that it was all perfectly normal, that this always happened behind the scenes. He highly doubted that the boy was gay, but alcohol could persuade even the straightest man sometimes.

Fuck, and now he was channelling Tony.

Get the guy out of your life and turn into him instead.

The sound of a horn blaring knocked Maxxie from his thoughts and he left the theatre with his mind on Tony once more. Slumping down into the back seat of the black cab, raking his fingers through his wet hair, he cursed himself for being so weak.

They'd parted ways on Wednesday night at around midnight and for the first time in weeks he had felt a big weight lifted from his shoulders. That was it; it really was all over this time. They didn't ever have to see each other again and he didn't care either. No more Tony, no more mind games and more importantly, no more sleepless nights.

It had worked, too, better than he expected it to.

So now he could get on with things. Throw himself into the show, commit himself to Rupert (most of the time anyway) and start enjoying every second of his life.

As the taxi pulled off Maxxie leant his forehead against the windowpane, sighing heavily and watching the city lights blur before him. It had been a long week on the whole; fighting with Rupert, putting himself out of commission for a couple of days and then, finally, seeing Tony. He couldn't wait to get home and crawl between the sheets. He could have slept for a week.

They arrived at his flat twenty minutes later and he tossed a twenty pound note in the driver's direction, picking up his bag from the seat beside him and hopping out of the taxi. Shouting a thank you before he swung the door shut, he turned around coming face-to-face with a rather wet looking Tony stood outside the entrance to the flat.

Shit, what happened to no more Tony?

Taking several anxious steps forward, the rain coming down in sheets around him, the words escaped before he got the chance to stop them. 'Are you insane?!' he exclaimed, although his voice became lost in the downpour.

Frowning, Maxxie pulled his jacket over his head in a bid to keep himself dry for at least a second and then made a dash for the door of the building. Grabbing hold of Tony's sweater on his way, he opened the door and then dragged the older boy inside after him, slamming it closed after himself.

They both stood motionless at first, staring and dripping water all over the hall carpet. The landlord would be ecstatic.

Tony must have been out there for a while, he looked freezing and there wasn't a dry patch anywhere on him. His hair hung bedraggled across his forehead, drops of water trickling down his face and clinging to his eyelashes, his bottom lip quivering. Ten more minutes out there and he would have been blue.

Maxxie didn't know what to say, so he whispered the only thing that came to him, a softly spoken 'Why?'

Shaking his head, Tony stepped closer, haphazardly shoved his hair out of his eyes and then laid his hand lightly against Maxxie's cheek, fingers stroking his skin. The touch made him shiver, the palm of Tony's hand so cold and his eyes automatically fell closed at the contact.

'What are you doing?' he whispered, sighing and turning his head away quickly, not wanting to encourage anymore than he had already.

Tony swallowed, looking frustrated, dropping his hand down to grip onto the front of Maxxie's jacket instead. 'I have no idea,' he said at last, his voice cracking. 'Fuck, Maxxie, I don't know… I just have to, I need to…I can't…'

And then Tony was kissing him.

No qualms, no games, no nothing; kissing him because he needed to.

And Maxxie kissed him back.

No hesitation, no argument, no nothing; kissing back because he never had mastered the art of will power all that well after all.

Who could say no to Tony Stonem?


	3. Opening Night

**Prompt: **001. Beginnings.

**Opening Night**

_They arrived at his flat twenty minutes later and Maxxie tossed a twenty pound note in the driver's direction, picking up his bag from the seat beside him and hopping out of the taxi. Shouting a thank you before he swung the door shut, he turned around coming face-to-face with a rather wet looking Tony stood outside the entrance to the flat._

_Shit, what happened to no more Tony?_

_Taking several anxious steps forward, the rain coming down in sheets around him, the words escaped before he got the chance to stop them. 'Are you insane?!' he exclaimed, although his voice became lost in the downpour._

_Frowning, Maxxie pulled his jacket over his head in a bid to keep himself dry for at least a second and then made a dash for the door of the building. Grabbing hold of Tony's sweater on his way, he opened the door and then dragged the older boy inside after him, slamming it closed after himself._

_They both stood motionless at first, staring and dripping water all over the hall carpet. The landlord would be ecstatic._

_Tony must have been out there for a while, he looked freezing and there wasn't a dry patch anywhere on him. His hair hung bedraggled across his forehead, drops of water trickling down his face and clinging to his eyelashes, his bottom lip quivering. Ten more minutes out there and he would have been blue._

_Maxxie didn't know what to say, so he whispered the only thing that came to him, a softly spoken 'Why?'_

_Shaking his head, Tony stepped closer, haphazardly shoved his hair out of his eyes and then laid his hand lightly against Maxxie's cheek, fingers stroking his skin. The touch made him shiver, the palm of Tony's hand so cold and his eyes automatically fell closed at the contact._

'_What are you doing?' he whispered, sighing and turning his head away quickly, not wanting to encourage anymore than he had already._

_Tony swallowed, looking frustrated, dropping his hand down to grip onto the front of Maxxie's jacket instead. 'I have no idea,' he said at last, his voice cracking. 'Fuck, Maxxie, I don't know… I just have to, I need to…I can't…'_

_And then Tony was kissing him._

_No qualms, no games, no nothing; kissing him because he needed to._

_And Maxxie kissed him back._

_No hesitation, no argument, no nothing; kissing back because he never had mastered the art of will power all that well after all._

_Who could say no to Tony Stonem?_

-

'Why are you doing this, Tony? Why now?'

Maxxie had no idea where the questions had even come from, but he found himself asking them nevertheless. It gave him a moment to breathe; his eyes dilated and heart racing as they both stood in the hallway shivering from head to toe. The answers weren't important. He knew that Tony wouldn't supply any. He just needed to ask.

Leaning against his companion, he dipped his head low, laying quick, hungry kisses to Tony's neck, skin soaked beneath his lips. He sucked the raindrops away, a hand working its way up into dark, damp hair and Tony moaned into his ear, wanting, encouraging.

'Bedroom?' came the desperate whisper.

Maxxie pulled away just long enough to murmur, 'Too far.'

Shoving him back against the front door of the flat, he began to fumble around his bag in search of the keys. Several moments later, he pulled them out triumphantly, unlocked the door and pressed his lips to Tony's once more, pulling him inside by the buckle of his belt.

Moving his hands quickly, he tugged Tony's sodden sweater over his head, tossing it to the floor hurriedly. Fingers sliding over wet skin, lips kissing and tasting and he lost track of where they were until he collided with the bookcase, sending a shower of Italian cookbooks raining over their heads. Maxxie felt a small pang of guilt, his pale eyes focusing on the worn pages of Rupert's passion.

But he didn't have time to dwell; Tony's hand had moved down toward his belt, fingers stroking lightly over his crotch and Maxxie moaned out in a strangled voice he was sure belonged to someone else. He gripped onto Tony's arm tightly, nails cutting into his skin, tipping his head forwards slightly and placing lazy kisses to his shoulder.

Shit, this had been a long time coming…

Tony seemed to have turned the tables somewhere along the way, his thumb smoothly popping open the buttons on Maxxie's fly so he could slide his hand down into his jeans. The touch made him tense slightly, a groan slipping from his mouth as Tony's touches slowly became more confident. This wasn't exactly something he would have been doing on a regular basis since they'd been apart.

Deciding it was time to get a hold of the reigns again; Maxxie stepped back without warning, a lethargic smile on his face and began edging towards the couch in the living room. Tony didn't hesitate, following immediately and only pausing very briefly to kick his shoes off.

A moment later they had fallen onto the couch in a mess of limbs and Maxxie had straddled Tony at the hips, returning the favour in undoing his belt and relieving him of it. The second the strip of leather hit the floor he'd moved his attention elsewhere, head bent low and lips tracing the curve of Tony's neck, his companion squirming beneath him.

Maxxie smiled, leaning back just enough to take in the look of hunger in Tony's eyes, and he bit down very lightly on his bottom lip, not daring to move and simply teasing him. It didn't take long for Tony to react and within seconds he'd grabbed Maxxie by the scruff of his neck, tugged his t-shirt over his head and then rolled them over onto the floor so that he was on top instead.

'If you're going to fuck around, Max,' said Tony, smirking down at him.

There was no time to argue of course, Tony had other ideas; helping Maxxie out of his jeans and grinding up against him for one. Not exactly something Maxxie could make a complaint about, so he let the dark-haired boy do exactly what he liked, all the while paying extra attention to his throat and taking great pleasure in marking Tony's ghostly complexion.

He could have kept up the game of cat and mouse all night, but it wouldn't get them anywhere in the long run, he knew that. Deciding once more to gain control of the situation, Maxxie ran his tongue along Tony's jaw line before leaning into him and yanking unexpectedly on his earlobe with his teeth.

It gained the desired reaction; Tony yelped in surprise, sat back suddenly and stared down at him.

And then Maxxie started laughing.

It came out of nowhere, a soft giggle that soon developed into raucous laughter and he was practically doubled over, crying. Tony's dubious expression only made it ten times worse. He didn't offer an explanation, only scrambled to his feet and made his way to the bedroom, knowing that Tony would follow sooner or later.

Of course, Maxxie wasn't wrong, and within a matter of seconds he found himself being shoved up against the wardrobe. Lips meeting over and over again, he reluctantly gave in, Tony pinning his hands up against the wood. He pulled away at last and just stared, blue eyes alight. If this happened now, there would be no going back this time, they would have to see it through to the bitter end and face the consequences.

Was Maxxie really ready for that… again?

'Tone…'

Oh Jesus, now he was about to ruin everything.

'What about Soph-?'

Tony didn't let him finish her name, instead covered Maxxie's mouth with his own, kissing him hard and knocking the breath from his lungs.

'You're meant to be getting-'

'Shut the fuck up, Max, you talk too much.'

He did, he knew it, so Maxxie gladly did as he was told, allowing himself to get lost in the sensations, his hands tracing the oh so familiar contours of Tony's body, eyes closed to the rest of the world. They hadn't done this for so long that he'd almost forgotten what it was like. Forgotten how they played the game.

In fact, he didn't say another word until he woke the next morning, sighing in satisfaction and reaching out toward the person he expected to be lying beside him. But the only thing his fingertips came into contact with was the pillow and he sat bolt upright, his mouth turning down into a small frown.

Maxxie let his hand brush over the empty spot, the Tony sized dent in the mattress, and found that the sheets were still slightly warm. This was enough to reassure him that the older boy hadn't done a runner and he settled back down, burying himself in the duvet and breathing in deeply. The familiar scent of Tony swam into his head, Calvin Klein aftershave, mingled with stale smoke and whiskey. And even though the whole situation had been wrong from the outset, the familiarity of it made him giddy, made him feel free again.

Was that what he wanted though, freedom?

It must have been months since he'd felt that way about Rupert. Each morning the exact same thing happened. The alarm clock would go off at 6:59am; Rupert would go out for a jog, return with a kiss and coffee from Starbucks at 8am and then go and take a shower. Admittedly, Maxxie felt more comfortable in his company, the routine meant he could relax and open up, just be himself. Rupert loved him for it, every quirk and every flaw, nothing but perfection in his eyes.

But perhaps he had gotten too comfortable, perhaps he needed-

'_Is the lazy arse still in bed?'_

Maxxie's body went ridged at the sound of Rupert's voice, his train of thought lost, and he scrambled out from beneath the covers, pulling on a pair of pyjama bottoms and the first t-shirt he could lay his hands on.

Fucking hell, what time was it?

He met Rupert in the doorway, tripping over a pair of shoes and mustering a casual laugh. His boyfriend simply smiled, giving him the once over and then sidled past him and disappeared into the en-suite. Several seconds later the sound of running water could be heard and Maxxie cautiously continued on and into the kitchen.

Perched at the breakfast bar, looking the embodiment of cool as per usual, was Tony. He had a spoon in his hand and was nonchalantly playing with the contents of a bowl of cereal, his gaze downcast. At some point he'd managed to get dressed again, wearing a top that looked suspiciously like Maxxie's and his damp jeans from last night riding low about his hips, bare toes peeping out of the bottom of them.

'Don't worry, he doesn't know,' said Tony, sensing his presence but not bothering to look up. 'Explained I got caught in a rain storm and you let me stay over. Told him I'd slept on the couch. Figured he wouldn't be all that pleased to know we'd been going at it all night.' He lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. 'He's cute by the way, a real keeper, offered me coffee and everything. If I were that way inclined I-'

'I'm glad you're not.'

The words that had left Maxxie's lips, he meant and it seemed his comment was the one which finally forced Tony to acknowledge his being there. He lifted his head, glancing over his shoulder at Maxxie and, surprisingly, his gaze remained soft and he smiled the tiniest bit.

Maxxie sighed, biting on his lower lip and then joined Tony at the breakfast bar, reaching for a bowl from the cupboard above his head. He couldn't reach, so several seconds later Tony plucked it out for him, dropping it onto the counter with a clunk.

'This is so fucked up, Tone,' Maxxie observed eventually, 'you being here still.'

'What did you want me to do? Hide in the wardrobe? Sneak out when he had his back turned? Not exactly my style,' supplied Tony, munching on another spoonful of his cereal.

Ignoring him, Maxxie set off in search of the milk and then returned to his spot beside Tony a couple of minutes later with a large bowl of Corn Flakes and a glass of orange juice. He leant an elbow on the counter, knotting his fingers into his hair and sat in silence, not knowing what to say.

Upon finishing his breakfast, Tony pushed his bowl aside and leant in closer to Maxxie, fixing him with a stare, a hand finding its way to his thigh, rubbing in gentle circles. 'Give me a reason to call off my engagement,' he murmured. 'Say the word and things can go back to the way they were before, we can be together.'

Was he serious here?

Maxxie blinked, shifting his gaze for a mere moment and then without really thinking about it, asked, 'And then what happens, Tony?'

His companion's reaction wasn't unexpected; his eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he sat back to return the look, tilting his head to the right like a curious puppy.

'Will you move to London to be with me? Can you even afford to?' Maxxie pressed on, knowing now that he needed answers.

'What does it matter?' questioned Tony outright, his tone indignant.

That was the clincher.

'We're in the real world now. We're not at college anymore, Tony. Neither of us have parents here to fall back on the moment something goes wrong,' he explained. 'I live here, in London. So do my friends. I have no intention of going anywhere else, not even back home. This isn't just some game you're playing, it's our lives.'

For a brief moment, Tony appeared amused and then he asked, 'So, what was last night, Max?' his mouth curling into a smirk.

Maxxie didn't need to think about his answer, it came to him easily, the words rolling off his tongue as he got to his feet. 'A reminder of what you fucked up,' he said bluntly. 'Now get out of my flat.'

He'd already stalked into the living room and was in the process of collecting Tony's things together when the older boy replied. 'You're a fucking idiot,' he said, his words tinged with venom as he came to lean against the living room door.

'No, I'm not,' muttered Maxxie.

They stared at each for a long moment, and then Tony shrugged, tugging his sweater over his head and pulling on his shoes, finally heading for the front door.

By the time he had reached it, his shoulders slumped in defeat and then, his words almost inaudible, he queried, 'What's so special about him then?'

Maxxie looked down at his feet, biting his tongue and holding back any cutting comments. He decided the only answer Tony needed was the most honest one, so he swallowed down hard and whispered, 'He loves me.'

'I can try…'

For the first time in his life, Tony sounded hopeful, but it was false hope and it needed to be destroyed immediately.

Sinking down to sit on the edge of the coffee table, Maxxie closed his eyes from the pain he was beginning to feel. He needed to grow up and he needed to do it fast. No more Tony Stonem, no more, it was time to cut loose and run. 'It's not enough anymore,' he said, although his voice wavered slightly as he spoke.

That was all it took, the front door slammed shut and just like that, Tony was gone.

Maxxie stayed where he was, completely motionless until he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and he fell reluctantly against Rupert. Inhaling his familiar scent, he knew immediately that he'd made the right decision.

'You don't have to tell me,' Rupert's voice was soft in Maxxie's ear.

So he didn't. No point living in the past after all. It was time for a new chapter of his life to begin and this time, Tony wouldn't be a part of it… not ever.


End file.
